'All right. I'll make up the explosives and you can show me where to place them. We'll also lay black powder over the boxes of cartridges, make sure that they burn and explode. Which leaves only the guns themselves to worry about. They're rugged. Even if the boxes they are packed in are burned, we have no guarantee that they will be put out of commission. If they were cleaned up — and there is another store of cartridges someplace — this entire effort would be wasted.'
'Then it's into the river with them. A few days in the water and they will be completely unserviceable.'
'Right, Let's do it. But it's not going to be an easy job. There must be thousands of them in these boxes.'
'Then it is time we started, isn't it?' Shaw said, taking off his coat. 'We'll see how many we can give the deep six before dawn.'
It was an exhausting night's work. Once the charges had been placed on the machinery, they turned to the crates of submachineguns. Breaking them open and carrying the guns out the side entrance to the river bank. Hurling them out into the dark water. The work seemed endless and they still were not finished when the first light of dawn spread across the eastern sky. The rain had stopped, though the sky was still overcast. Troy dropped onto a box, gasping with exhaustion.
'Enough…' he said. 'We have to lay fuse trails, think of getting out of here.' He hesitated, looking at Shaw. 'We must be well away from here by dawn. I have sure knowledge that this rebellion is doomed. I tried to tell John Brown that — but he wouldn't listen. Everyone taking part in this raid, everyone who has not escaped, will be killed. Of that I am absolutely certain.'
'How do you know?'
'I can't tell you that now. Please, Robbie, take my word for it. We must get away. We'll use the rowboat since the land side of the building will surely be watched.'
They had been hearing sporadic gunfire for some time now: there was no escape back the way they had come.
'All right, let's do it. I have none of the love of certain death that possesses our friend Brown.'
Carefully, so as not to step on the grains of powder and cause a premature explosion, they trickled fine streams of gunpowder from the remaining barrels. Joining the trails together and leading a final trail out of the open door. The half-empty barrels were placed on the last crates of guns; then they were ready. When Troy put the lantern down he saw the outline of the building against the sky.
'It's time. We should be safe back against the base of the wall here when the charges explode. As soon as we are sure the place is burning well we'll take to the boat. I'm bringing this with us.' He placed the saddlebags and the loaded Sten-gun under the front seat of the boat. 'If we are seen we may have to defend ourselves. This gun will even the odds. If we are not attacked — it joins the others in the river. We still have our pistols. Ready?'
'Yes, do it.'
They pressed close to the dressed stone foundation of the building as Troy broke the glass globe of the lantern, then thrust the burning wick into the train of powder. With a soft burst of flame and smoke it caught and the crackling fire vanished through the door.
An instant later multiple explosions shook the wall against which they were leaning. Flame gouted through the windows as they exploded outwards with a crash of breaking glass. Smoke followed the flame, red-lit smoke showing that the combustibles had caught fire.
'That's done it!' Troy shouted over the roar of the blaze. 'Let's get out of here.'
They ran to the boat, jumped in and pushed it free. Troy seized up the single paddle and rowed hard, out into the fast-flowing river and away from the burning building. There was no one on the shore that they could see. Nevertheless he rowed on with all his strength, until they were well away from the island and invisible from the shore in the dim greyness of dawn.
Troy was gasping, his arms burning with the effort, and was only too happy to let Shaw take over from him. They shared the rowing after this, turn and turn about, until they approached the black outline of the opposite bank. The rifle works burned brightly behind them; ahead of them the landscape was emerging with the first grey light of dawn.
'Can you see anything on the river bank?' Shaw asked.
'Nothing. Seems to be just meadows along here. But we're not too far from the road.'
'Yet if any one were there they should be visible by now. I think that we are in the clear.'
It was quiet, the only sound the splash of the oar as they approached the shore. Then the bow scraped against the bottom under the sloping bank. A bird called plaintively in the dawn. There were no other sounds. Shaw, sitting in the stern, rowed hard to drive them up on to the shore. Troy jumped out, holding the rope, and pulled the boat further up on to the sand.
'All right,' he said. 'I'll hold it while you…'
Troy was looking at the Scotsman as he said this, saw his sudden look of horror. His mouth opened—